In casting the very American Paul Newman as a drunken Mexican rapist, director Martin Ritt risked controversy, protest and career suicide. But this portrayal of an ugly soul performing a vile act comes off as art, almost an Ingmar Bergman film in its theme, gripping and emotional, as it dramatizes the different versions of Newman's inhumane violation. Laurence Harvey and Claire Bloom are his victims, Harvey tied to a tree and forced to watch wife Bloom being subjugated to the worst offense a woman can be victim of. Three storytellers, preacher William Shatner, lawman Howard da Silva and bum Edward G. Robinson, give accounts how Newman ended up tried for Harvey's murder, all completely different and all equally compelling.
A super cast delivers the goods in this drama of human degradation, the insight into what remains of a supposedly evil man's soul, and the question of what is the truth when something like this is brought to court for justice. Newman gets no sympathy in any of the many versions of what happened, but if there is a shred of decency in him, it's up to the individual viewer to decide. He is amazing, showing the many facets of a type of character often assumed to be scum even without proof. Bloom allows her character's inner death to be exposed, especially when she looks on Harvey glaring at her in disgust after her rape. Harvey pretty much can only act with his eyes, and he does so convincingly. As the three storytellers with their own recollections of what happened, Shatner, Robinson and da Silva give mesmerizing portrayals. Certain scenes remind me of Bergman's masterpiece, "The Seventh Seal", especially the scene with a native American chanting and Bloom's imagined desire for suicide over a huge cliff with rushing water below.
A super cast delivers the goods in this drama of human degradation, the insight into what remains of a supposedly evil man's soul, and the question of what is the truth when something like this is brought to court for justice. Newman gets no sympathy in any of the many versions of what happened, but if there is a shred of decency in him, it's up to the individual viewer to decide. He is amazing, showing the many facets of a type of character often assumed to be scum even without proof. Bloom allows her character's inner death to be exposed, especially when she looks on Harvey glaring at her in disgust after her rape. Harvey pretty much can only act with his eyes, and he does so convincingly. As the three storytellers with their own recollections of what happened, Shatner, Robinson and da Silva give mesmerizing portrayals. Certain scenes remind me of Bergman's masterpiece, "The Seventh Seal", especially the scene with a native American chanting and Bloom's imagined desire for suicide over a huge cliff with rushing water below.